


Melancholia

by Squibbles94



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Always Keep Fighting, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot, Reader is Going Through a lot, Sam is a Saint, Self-Harm, Suicide Attempt, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-23
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-07-01 08:09:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15770064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squibbles94/pseuds/Squibbles94
Summary: The reader is having a depression episode. She has to decide if she wants to live or not.*Please don’t read this if it is going to push you over the edge. Be smart about what you need. Please don’t hurt yourself and if you are feeling suicidal, talk to someone.





	Melancholia

**Author's Note:**

> Hello lovelies, 
> 
> Please make sure you read all of the tags before moving forward. If this is a sensitive issue for you, please know what you can handle.

There are very few times in life that you know that you are cherished. This was not one of them. There was honestly no reason for the walls to be crushing you right now and it didn’t make sense that you felt like you wanted to die. Everything was wonderful in your life. You and Sam had been dating for just over a year and you found a best friend in his brother, Dean. Never before had you felt completely wanted by a family. Not only that, you were needed and a valuable part of the team. Or, you thought you knew that anyway. 

You had dealt with depression all your life, it came and went but at the end of the day you were always able to push past it and come out the other end stronger. This particular episode however, was terrible. There was only one other time in life that you remember it being this bad. It took you weeks to be able to function like a human being again, and that was being generous. 

You felt this episode start to creep up on you a few days ago. It was subtle at first. You were berating yourself, like normal but this time it got really bad. Thoughts that you hadn’t had in years crept into your mind. 

At this point in your life, you had mastered the art of acting like you were okay, while you were actually drowning in despair and numbness. You had heard others talk about their depression before, and they swore that talking about it made it better but you couldn’t bring yourself to let anyone in. You weren’t crazy. There was no way that you were going to let them lock you up in a padded room and be sent to group therapy over a little bit of sadness. At least, that’s what you told yourself, you didn’t need help. 

You were laying on your bed in the bunker. You have been laying in the same position for the past four days. You told the Winchesters that you were sick and that you just needed a minute to pull yourself together. Sam, as always, tried to make you feel better. He had not seen this side of you yet. He didn’t know about the scars that you inflicted on yourself that got mixed in with the ones that were made by the creatures you hunted. It had been a long time since you hurt yourself. Years, in fact. It was something that you worked through and got past, but sometimes the urge came back especially when you felt as numb as you did at this moment.

"Babe?” There was a knock at the door, and you heard Sam call you from the hallway sounding concerned.

“Yeah?” You called. 

“Can I come in?” He asked, cracking the door. 

“I guess so.” was all you could muster. 

He opened the door and peered inside tentatively. You tried your hardest to sit up and smile at him. From the look on his face, you had succeeded in convincing him that you were okay. Slowly, he walked over to the bed and sat down making the bed sag under his weight. 

“How are you feeling, baby?” He asked you, studying your face. 

“I’m fine.” You lied. 

He sighed and looked at the state of your room. There were clothes everywhere and several bottles of alcohol strewn across the room. It had been a while since you cleaned up the place. You honestly just didn’t have the will power and you didn’t see why it was important anymore. 

“Let’s get out of here. Just you and me. Let’s go do something. We can go to that ice cream place you like and go to your favorite clearing in the woods. Sit on a blanket. Look at some stars.” He coaxed you with what you would consider the perfect date. 

“Not tonight. Maybe another night when I’m feeling better. Promise.” You tried to reassure him by placing your hand on his cheek and rubbing small circles around his jaw. You knew he was doing this because he was trying to make you feel better, but you just couldn’t go outside. You didn’t have the strength.

~

It had been a couple of days since Sam suggested a date. You still refused to leave your room except to go to the bathroom. Sam had been coming with food and making sure you ate at least some of it. You honestly didn’t deserve how much he cared for you. When Dean came in your room, he tried to entice you with a hunt, knowing that it was rare for you to stay behind of your own volition. His eyebrows knitted in concern when you said that you weren’t up for it just then. He tried a couple of more times but he ended up leaving you to go pack for the simple salt and burn in Kentucky.

When they were ready to leave, he popped his head into your room and said, “We’re headed out. Stay out of trouble and call us if you need anything. And stay out of my room, or I’ll get you.” He said the last sentence with a smirk on his face. You couldn’t help but smirk back at him. He was so overprotective of his room that it was almost adorable.

Behind Dean, Sam came in to tell you goodbye. “You sure you don’t want to come with us? We can get separate hotel rooms have some time for just you and me.“ 

“I’m sure. Go ahead and do your brother bonding, it’s been a while. You guys deserve some time to yourselves.” You tried to ease his concern. 

“You sure?” He asked again, wanting to make sure that this is what you wanted.

“Positive.” You assured him, before he leaned down to give you a kiss. The way he looked at you, eyes full of love was confusing. How could someone like him love someone like you? He was a damn hero, and you couldn’t even get out of bed to go on a simple salt and burn. 

You thought that when the Winchesters left you would feel better about wallowing. To your dismay, you felt worse. Why didn’t they notice that something was terribly wrong? In the moment you didn’t want them to know, but it kind of hurt that they didn’t realize that something was seriously wrong. It didn't make sense and you knew you were being overdramatic, but your brain screamed that it was your fault.

You figured at the very least Sam would realize that the kiss you gave him was emotionless. But he didn’t. 

It didn’t take long for the self doubt to rush into your thoughts. Why were you still there? You didn’t contribute much to the group. When it came to research, you were shit. You weren’t as strong as the boys and often needed help with simple tasks like digging a grave. You weren’t as smooth with victims and witnesses like Sam. You didn’t have the hunters instinct like Dean. You sat for a long time trying to figure out what you brought to the table and came up with nothing.

Sam loved you. But a small voice in the back of your head asked if that was really true. Were you just some conquest for him? Sam wasn’t a womanizer by any stretch of the imagination, but it was hard to think that he would actually care about you beyond what you gave him in the bedroom. What did he honestly see in you?

You were lazy and didn’t like to clean up after yourself. You weren't beautiful or thin and you had zero fashion sense. You always messed up during hunts and ended up getting you or one of the Winchesters hurt. You had zero instincts when it came to fighting and figuring out the clues for a case. 

Your mind went through the list of your downfalls over and over. You tried to lift your arms to wipe away a stray hair that had fallen in your eyes but you couldn’t feel them. Hell, you couldn’t feel anything. It kind of felt like you were floating and didn't have the ability to move yourself. Something about it felt nice though. Kind of like you didn't have to try anymore.

You had no idea how long you lay there. With no windows in the bunker, it was hard to figure out what time of day it was. Eventually the need to go to the bathroom won and you headed down the hall. Entering the bathroom, you saw your razor sitting on the counter. Before you could stop yourself, you brain thought about all the possibilities. It would be so easy. Just a couple of cuts and it would be done. You probably wouldn’t feel a thing. It would be like going to sleep and then the Winchesters wouldn’t have to worry about you messing everything up. 

But what about Sam? Would he miss you? Would he grieve? There was a small part of you that knew he would, but there was a bigger part of you that believed he would get over you quickly. It wasn’t like you were his soulmate.

Without letting yourself think about it too much, you picked up the razor and dismantled it. You hadn’t taken apart a razor in a very long time and it almost scared you how easy it was for your fingers to remember the motions. You held the small piece of metal in your hands for what seemed like forever. It was lighter than you remembered. But just as deadly. It would only take a couple of swipes across your skin. That’s it. 

Numbly, you held the blade firmly in your hand as you walked back towards your room. You didn’t want to see yourself in the mirror. You just wanted to be by yourself with the truth that your brain formed. Everyone would be better off without you. Especially Sam. He would move on and find someone who was worthy of him.

Making your decision, you brought the blade to your arm and you felt the familiar sting of it slicing through the skin. You drug it across your arm slowly letting yourself feel the pain. You had only gotten a little way up your arm when your attention was caught by yelling.

“What the hell are you doing?!” You heard a voice boom. 

The suddenness of the voice made you jump, the blade slipped in your fingers but not before you dug a gash into your arm from being startled. You managed to grasp the blade before it fell to the floor as you looked up. Sam was staring at you looking terrified. He was angry. His chest rose and fell rapidly, making his nostrils flare. Even in your state, you could tell that he was furious. He hurried over to you, crossing the room with three quick strides. His fingers pried the blade from your hand and threw it across the room. Grasping your arm in his hands, he assessed the damage. Blood was flowing freely from your arm and you knew you would need stitches. Most of you didn’t want to be fixed, you just wanted it to be over. But there was the terror and pain in Sam’s gaze that made something snap to life inside of you. 

You were suddenly very aware of the pain. It was almost as if your senses had gone into overdrive. You could smell the putrid stink in your room. Feel the grease that matted your hair to your skull. You looked down at your arm and saw the blood. You felt the panic rise in your throat and come out with a sob.

“Sam. I don’t. I don’t know what… I don’t.” You tried to explain. 

“Stop talking.” Sam said forcefully. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his arms. He carried you down the hall to his room where he had a first aid kit. The entire time, he didn’t look at you and you could feel the rage and confusion seeping from him. 

He worked in silence pressing a cloth to your wound making sure that it stopped bleeding. You tried a couple of times to explain what happened, but he told you to be quiet. Though his words were angry and controlled, his hands were gentle making sure that he did not hurt you anymore than you already hurt yourself.

When he was done making sure you were stitched up and that you had stopped bleeding he brought a chair over and sat in front of you. He dropped his head into his hands and heaved a sigh. You had never seen this massive man look so small and you were terrified of what he was going to say.

“Why?” Was all he asked. 

“I… I don’t…” 

“Don’t say 'I don’t know'. That’s a piss poor excuse, and you know it.” He said, angry. “Why didn’t you tell me that you were this bad? I could’ve helped you. If I had known you weren’t happy with me, I would have tried harder.“

This took you aback. “No. It’s not… you couldn’t have done anything. It’s me. I’m fucked up, Sam.” You were not going to let him blame himself.

His head snapped up at that. “No. You’re not. Why would you even think that?” 

You dropped your head, unable to look him in the eye. “Why are you even back here?” You asked. 

“Because I was worried about you. You haven’t been yourself and after we left for the hunt, I just couldn’t leave you. So I had Dean drop me back off. Looks like I made the right call.” He said, worry and anger bleeding together. “I just don’t get it baby. You could have talked to me.” His voice calmed. It was gentle and almost pleading. 

You kept your eyes down. “No, I couldn’t have. You and Dean already have so much going on and it isn’t fair for me to dump all of my crazy on you. I don’t even know why you and I are together or why I’m here with the two of you. I ruin everything I touch and it was selfish of me to stay here knowing that I was going to hurt you.“ As you talked, tears started to flood down your face. You normally hated him to see you cry but under the circumstances that was probably the mildest thing that he would see today. You knew you were being irrational but everything you were telling him rang true in your ears. 

Sam stood up and came over to sit next to you. He put his hand under your chin and raised it until you met his eyes. “I. Love. You.” He said each word slowly and purposefully. “The reason that we are together is because you are beautiful and I can’t imagine my life without you. You are strong and you help keep me sane. You’re here with me and Dean because you are a badass hunter. You've saved our asses more times than I can count. So you don’t get to sit here and say that you’re nothing.” 

You felt yourself losing it. Your vision became so blurry from the flood of tears that you couldn’t see Sam clearly anymore. He wrapped his arms around you and brought you into his chest. Clinging to the fabric, you wailed into his chest, letting his even breathing comfort you. He tightened his arms around you every time a fresh wave of tears hit. When you had nothing left to expel, he laid you down on the bed. 

“You can’t do that to me again.” He told you, as he held you in his arms. “I need you to talk to me when you feel this way again. Please. I can’t lose you.” His voice was strong but it had an edge to it. 

You nodded into his chest, knowing that there would be more conversations about what happened and that when Sam told Dean, there would be an uproar. But in that moment, all you could concentrate on was Sam’s soft words of love and encouragement.

~

It had been 10 months since you tried to commit suicide. When Dean found out, there were a flurry of curses and questions. In the long run it was for the best that he knew. He and Sam kept a close eye on you for a long time after that. You still struggled with the depression but it had not gotten as bad as it had that night. The Winchesters would still not leave you alone for more than a few minutes. In your heart, you knew you deserved that. Sam had been scared so bad that it was a month before he let you out of his sight at all. He even went as far as showering with you. 

Life was getting better. Sam refused to go more than a day without telling you that he loved you. After some convincing, you agreed to go see a counselor with the condition that you did not tell them about your suicide attempt. Being locked up wouldn’t be the best thing for anyone. Instead, you stuck to you admitting that you had thoughts. Honestly, it was helping. The bad thing was you had to be careful what you said about the hunts and what you did for a job, but then again, you were a professional scam artist. 

You and Sam’s relationship had gotten better. It was weird that after that night you were closer than you had ever been. You still had bad days, but you knew Sam was there and you didn’t have to hide from him. There’s still a long road ahead, but in the end you were alive. And that’s all that mattered.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Just a note, I am just having a bad day and needed to do a journal type thing and this was my outlet. I’m okay, I promise. Love you guys.  
> ~AKF


End file.
